The Killer Supreme Meets His Match
by Deidara the Arrancar Alchemist
Summary: Vaurien Scapegrace meets his match, but in more ways than one. ;D Just a one-shot but might be expanded. Enjoy!


_I was just pondering on Skulduggery Pleasant (as you do) and Vaurien Scapegrace crossed my mind. Then I thought "Hey, this guy really needs a hug", and then this idea came to mind! _

_This is set in "Playing With Fire", and you're going to have to assume that when Skulduggery shoots Valkyrie's reflection, Scapegrace manages to shuffle away, OK?_

_Reviews are very much welcome, because everyone likes reviews, right? Oh yeah, and I think that this is just a one-shot, unless you want a continuation. Enjoy!_

**The Killer Supreme Meets His Match**

Vaurien Scapegrace, the self-proclaimed Killer Supreme, stared deeply into the glass of beer he cradled in both of his hands. The pub he was at was crowded with people and rather noisy, but he sat alone in the corner of the room where an unpleasant stain marked the peeling wallpaper and it quite frankly smelt awful. Trust him to sit in the stinky part of the pub.

His wrists and ankles were still a little red and sore from the shackles he'd miraculously managed to break out of, and he rubbed his left hand trying to soothe it. He took a sip of beer and grimaced - it was pretty disgusting.

Being in the pub reminded him of the one he used to own in Roarhaven. The fresh memory of his old mates wanting to beat him up was still painful, and he was stung by their hatred of him. He tried to fight back the tears that threatened to streak his face.

Everybody despised him. His friends, family, even his enemies. However, as that darn Cain girl said, maybe if he stopped trying to kill people, he'd make more friends. Scapegrace liked the idea of friends. People who shared the same interests as him: the enigmatic art of murder, long walks in the park and watching the sun set. Was a little love so hard to ask for, instead of loathing and taunting? Was that too much to ask for?

But giving up killing! It was so hard, impossibly so. It was his dream to become a renowned murderer, to hear his name whispered fearfully. He could hear it now: _Oh my God, that Vaurien Scapegrace! He's a terrifying man! But the art he creates from the blood and messiness, it's awfully good._

The mere thought of that chased away the tears and made him smile warmly. And his first victim was going to be Valkyrie Cain. Sure, she was a tough cookie for a thirteen year old girl, but nothing he couldn't handle when he had vengeance on his mind.

Then the front door of the pub opened and Scapegrace uttered a feeble squeak of alarm and ducked under the table for the fifth time that evening. He earned a funny look from a man nearby. Scapegrace let out a relieved sigh and sat back in his seat again when he realised that the person who'd entered the pub wasn't the Skeleton Detective come to arrest him, but a woman.

Scapegrace froze and stared a little longer. A pretty woman. With long brown hair and wide emerald eyes.

A small smirk crept up his face and he rested his chin on his hand. When she glanced his way, he blinked rapidly and tried to look like the mysterious and deadly murderer he was (or would have liked to be) and took a gulp of beer. He immediately spat the vile beverage out, foam splattering all down his front.

A flash of heat warmed his cheeks as the woman sniggered and rolled her eyes. Scapegrace's shoulders slumped: he was a disappointment in everything. His sadness was replaced with anger. How dare she laugh at the Killer Supreme! His eyes narrowed as he glared at the back of her head.

He tried his best to mop up the beer spilled down his shirt and coat, but it stained the fabric and turned it an odd colour. With a sigh, he got up and left the pub, bashing his knee into a sharp table corner and cursing, hopping slightly as he left.

The chilly wind was a welcome relief on his flushed face. The night sky was a curtain of midnight blue with a sprinkling of stars twinkling high above Dublin. He could hear the rush of cars streaking down the roads, the blast of angry horns from disgruntled drivers stuck in traffic. Warm yellow lights winked in the windows of the city.

Scapegrace walked down the street, hands thrust into his coat pockets as he scowled. He turned into an alleyway where the starlight failed to illuminate the way ahead. In fact it was so dark, he couldn't really see where he was going. One moment he was walking along, minding his own business. The next, he'd slipped in a puddle, fallen with a crash and knocked his head on the ground, falling unconscious with a groan.

It was a little while later when someone found him. He could hear someone speaking to him, but the voice was muffled as if he was underwater. A few moments later, he cracked open his blue eyes and saw the blurry image of a face leaning over him. Fire burned in their hand and threw ruddy light upon them.

"Hey, are you alright?" the person asked. It was a feminine voice.

"Think so" Scapegrace groaned, sitting up. He rubbed the back of his head and felt a trickle of blood.

"What happened to you?" she asked.

"I tripped over" he replied.

"Tripped over?" said the woman incredulously.

"Yeah, and?" Scapegrace snapped. He glanced at the woman and quickly recognised her: it was the girl that had laughed at him in the pub.

"Get away from me!" he snarled, anger flaring up.

"W-what?" the woman stammered in alarm.

"You heard!" said Scapegrace, getting to his feet. "You'd better run away now or I'll kill you."

She snorted as she rose to her feet too. "Says the man that knocked himself out by tripping over his own feet!"

"It wasn't my feet, it was a puddle" he retorted.

"Whatever. But why are you going to kill me? What did I do to hurt you?"

Scapegrace frowned. "You laughed at me when I spilt beer down me."

There was a moment's hesitation, before the woman chuckled in hilarity.

Scapegrace bubbled up with anger and fought back more tears. "It's not funny!" he yelled.

"Yes it is!" laughed the woman. "I'm sorry, but it was just the look on your face!"

"You'll pay for that!" Scapegrace growled. "Prepare to feel the wrath of the Killer Supreme!"

And with that, he lunged at the woman.

The attack surprised her and she tumbled back with a gasp as they both fell to the ground. He aimed a punch at her head, but she snatched his incoming fist, grabbing both his wrists and head-butting him.

Scapegrace howled as his head snapped back, then gasped as the breath was knocked out of him as she kicked him in the gut. He snarled and struck out again, but she easily dodged the hit. The woman snapped her hand out flat and displaced the air in front of her, a visible ripple rushing forward and picking Scapegrace off his feet as if he was weightless. With a yelp, he crashed into some bins with a loud clatter, covered with rubbish, defeated.

The woman stood over him triumphantly, hands on her hips. Scapegrace peered up at her as she shook her head in dismay.

"Killer Supreme, indeed," she said with a smirk. "Take lessons from me, mate. I'm the real killer here."

Scapegrace gasped and his eyes widened in what could only be called adoration. "You like killing people too?"

"Yeah, I guess I do," she answered, a little awkward under his intense gaze. She then looked a little frightened and said "But don't tell anyone! I'll have the Sanctuary onto me."

"Don't worry I won't" Scapegrace reassured her. Suddenly, he burst into tears.

"What the hell…?" the woman murmured in alarm.

"I'm a failure!" Scapegrace wailed. "Every time I try to hurt people, they end up hurting me! My life isn't worth living if I can not make murder into art!" He sobbed into his hands like a child who'd just been told they were too short to get into the most exciting rollercoaster.

The woman backed off a little, freaked out. But then something stirred in her heart: a little flutter of pity. The poor man was just trying to do something he enjoyed. It was a shame he was totally inept at even injuring someone, or else he would have made a good partner in crime. Yeah, she needed one of those.

Then a light bulb flickered on in her head and she grinned.

"Hey," she said softly, kneeling down beside him and picking a banana peel from his dark hair. "I could teach you, if you like?"

He sniffed. "T-teach?"

"Yeah, how to be a good murderer. Truly become the Killer Supreme you want to be."

"You'd do that!" Scapegrace gasped, eyes glistening. "Thank you!" he squealed and wrapped his arms around the woman who laughed a little. Scapegrace coughed in embarrassment and his voice became more serious. "I'm Scapegrace, Vaurien Scapegrace. And you are?"

"Rogue, Summer Rogue" she smiled. They shook hands, both grinning.

For the rest of the night, they went to a bar (not that icky pub from before) and talked for hours about murder and the artistry of it, as well as their shared liking for long walks and sunsets. Scapegrace left the bar with her phone number and a skip in his step.

_So, so so, whatcha think!? Ugh, please tell me if it was awful, but I hope you enjoyed it! Remember, please tell me if you would like a continuation. _


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